Fair Lady Charlotte
by XxXxXJasperIsNotEmoXxXxX
Summary: A twist on the BBC's Robin Hood series. This introduces a new character, Lady Charlotte, who is unwittingly part of the Sheriff's next plan. Disclaimer:I own no part of Robin Hood. BTW, this is my first fic and is kind of awful but I loved writing it :
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so for those who don't like people waffling on, please skip these next two paragraphs. Others- feel free to read on.

For some strange reason, I am nearly always drawn to the 'bad guy' in a story. I once had a dream about this particular one. Being drawn to them doesn't mean that I find them attractive or whatever, it just means that I want to know more abut them, or I find them intriguing. The Sheriff of Nottingham from the BBC series _Robin Hood_ is a fascinating bad guy, who you hate, but kind of like at the same time. Like I said before, I had this idea from a dream. (I hope I spelt his name correctly! I think it's Vaizey, but I'm not sure).

In modern times, the Sheriff of Nottingham would be a millionaire with several mansions and his own private jet. He would enjoy caviar and expensive wine, as well as being addicted to some form of drug. He would own a Bugatti Veyron and/or a Rolls Royce Phantom and an Italian super car. His main aspiration? To take over the world.

**This fanfic is set in the first series of the BBC's Robin Hood, after the second-last episode (the one before Marian 'dies'). I hope you enjoy it!**

England, 1192

Chapter One

Sir Guy of Gisborne sat astride his coal black stallion- who was trotting at a leisurely pace- daydreaming about Lady Marian. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not notice a stranger approach beside him.

"Hello!" she called in her musical voice. Sir Guy did not respond, so she called again, but to no avail. Exasperated, she raised her voice. "Free ale at the inn!"

"What?" Guy cried, turning to face her. "Sorry, milady," he said when he realised that he had ignored her. "Please forgive me."

"Oh, no need," she replied, smiling. "That usually wakes people up." Sir Guy looked at her, confused. She was obviously a lady and not a common peasant, as her sky blue dress was quite elaborate and her bay mare was well looked after. That didn't explain why she was on her way to Nottingham, though.

"Pardon me for asking, but to where are you headed?" he asked.

"To Nottingham, Sir. I believe Sir Guy of Gisborne and the Sheriff are expecting me," she replied cheerfully. "Do you know them?"

"Yes," he said, "I am Sir Guy."

"Oh. Forgive me, my lord, I was not aware." There was an awkward pause, broken by the woman. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Guy."

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Lady…"

"Charlotte. Didn't the Sheriff tell you that I was coming?"

"No," Guy said, his face impassive.

"Ah, well. I'm here now!" Charlotte said enthusiastically. Everything about her seemed to shine; her honey blonde hair, her pale gold skin and her deep, chocolate brown eyes. It could have been the warm morning light, but Sir Guy suspected that she was always this vibrant.

They rode the rest of the way in respectful silence. Guy began to daydream again while Charlotte drank in the new sights and sounds around her, finding pleasure in even the smallest of things. She mentally noted how lush the grass was, how sweet the little birds sounded as they twittered away and the bright blue of a new sky.

_Note: no, Charlotte is nothing like a Disney princess. Keep reading, don't worry!_

The castle looked like a great, iron grey lump in the midst of thriving natural countryside to Charlotte. Sir Guy barely even noticed that they had reached there. The guards waved them through and Charlotte happily waved back, much to Sir Guy's embarrassment.

"So, where to now?" she asked as they made their way slowly through Nottingham town.

"The courtyard," Gisborne grunted, displeased that he had to stop daydreaming. He ran his fingers through his jet black hair, trying to remember if the Sheriff had wanted anything in particular. It was Saturday- why did he have to work?

Eventually they reached the courtyard, where the Sheriff was waiting impatiently. Gisborne dismounted and muttered a 'good morning' before heading up the steps.

"Ahem, Gisborne!" the Sheriff coughed, halting him. "The polite thing to do would be to introduce me to our guest." Gisborne rolled his eyes and made his way back down.

"My lord, this is Lady Charlotte. Lady Charlotte, this is Vaizey, Sheriff of Nottingham. You refer to him as my lord."

"A pleasure to meet you, my lord," she said, dismounting.

"Mmm," he replied. "If you say so."

"My brother sends his regards," she said, undeterred.

"That's nice."

"As does my pet rat," she muttered under her breath. The Sheriff frowned.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Or I could say something far less embarrassing. I'll get back to you on that," she said more loudly, smiling nervously. This time the Sheriff laughed.

"You certainly could." He studied her face and smiled, appearing to be pleased with what he saw. "I think I've done a pretty good deal, Gisborne. Look at her cheekbones and her fairly decent teeth… and those eyes are fascinating, too."

"She's alright," Gisborne replied, as if she wasn't there. Charlotte ignored the two, handing her horse's reigns to a nearby guard.

"Can you put her in the stables, please," she asked, giving him a smile. He smiled back, looking dazed. She then turned back to face Gisborne and the Sheriff. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please direct me to my room?"

"No trouble at all," the Sheriff replied, smirking. "This way."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"You're just in time for dinner, actually," Sir Guy said as Charlotte dropped her few belongings in her designated room. It was quite large with an expensive looking bed in the centre, covered in a luscious red blanket. Charlotte smiled- at least she had a good room. She couldn't wait to personalise it when her other things arrived.

"Oh, it's a bit early, isn't it?" she asked.

"It's midday."

"Already? Goodness, the time has flown!" she exclaimed. "We had better go then." Gisborne grunted in reply, motioning with his head to follow him. She followed him out, but stopped when she saw the Sheriff waiting outside the door.

"Forgive me if I don't join you, but I have business to attend to," he said, ignoring Sir Guy. "Do enjoy your meal." He gave a fake smile and walked off.

***

Dinner was roast pork with various vegetables and it was quite delicious. Gisborne was not very good company, but Charlotte enjoyed herself all the same.

"Sir Guy?" she asked. He looked up at her, surprised. "Could you take me on a tour of the castle?"

"Certainly," he replied, wiping his mouth. "Come with me, my lady."

***

"So, I hear that there's a visitor in the castle," Robin said to Marian as he sat on her windowsill, swinging his legs.

"I haven't heard anything about it," Marian replied, focussing on her sewing. "I suppose you want me to find out, then?"

"I suppose so," Robin said cheekily. "As a favour?"

"You only ever come for favours. The occasional gift or conversation would be nice," she said icily. Robin chuckled.

"If I say 'please', will you do it?"

"Possibly."

"Please?"

"As you insist," she sighed.

"Thank you," he said with feeling, and leant forward to kiss her on the cheek. Afterwards she shooed him away, but she was blushing. He laughed and swung out the window, landing smoothly on the ground. He then snuck into the trees, where Much was waiting for him, his eyes bright.

"So!" he said. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing," Robin replied, "but Marian is going to find out for me."

"Who do you think it is? Definitely not another Saracen prince, that's for sure."

"I get the feeling that this guest is staying a while- Will said a whole carriage of belongings came through this morning."

"Why didn't he stop it?" Much asked, frowning.

"We don't rob everybody, Much. Where would be the fun in that?"

"But a whole carriage of belongings… surely we could use those?" Much insisted, beginning to walk back towards camp.

"We could, but I get the feeling that you can't sell tailored women's clothes," Robin said, joining him. "By the way, Much, camp is that way."

"I knew that," Much snapped. "What do you mean, 'women's clothes', anyway?"

"Will and John did stop the carriage, but that was all they found. We don't rob from women, so they didn't even rob the man who was driving it," he explained. "So I suspect that the guest is a woman, judging by her clothes."

"What does the Sheriff want with a woman?" Much asked no-one in particular. Robin burst out laughing.

"Ask that again, and think about it." Much stopped walking to think, his face dappled green in the forest half-light.

"I don't…" he began, but stopped halfway through. "Oh! That is wrong, master! You have a sick mind!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Sir Guy of Gisborne rested his cheek against the cool stone wall of the castle. His mind was reeling- the whirlwind that was Charlotte had turned everything upside down. Guy was not used to having people being nice to him just because they felt like it. It felt good. Great, even. Sir Guy decided that he liked Charlotte.

"Hello, Sir Guy!" Charlotte called as she walked around the corner. She instantly lit up the dark room, which was dimly lit with two flickering candles. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Well, thank you." He gave a rare smile. "How are you?"

"Wonderful, thank you!" she replied, returning the smile. "What's happening today?"

"I thought that you might like to meet other women of your class, so today I have invited Lady Marian," he said, then added smugly, "my betrothed."

"Oh, Sir Guy! That is excellent!" Charlotte cried. "I should like very much to meet her."

"How is it, Gisborne, that women can reach that annoyingly high pitch?" the Sheriff sneered, strolling into the room. Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

"You tell me, Viola," she retorted, looking him right in the eye. Gisborne suppressed a laugh- no one took on the Sheriff.

"Viola?" the Sheriff asked. "What are you on about?"

"That is your name, isn't it? Or if it isn't, it should be."

"What? My name is Vaizey."

"Viola, Vaizey, whatever. Sorry. We girls should stick together."

"Are you implying that I am a woman?" he snapped, taking a step forward.

"Possibly."

"I must admit, the only feminine thing about you is your dress. Most men- normal men, actually- prefer feminine women," he hissed.

"If I am such a disgrace to my sex, I should become a nun, then."

"A nun?"

"Yes. Why don't you join me, Viola?" she said, putting on an innocent face. The Sheriff frowned and crossed his arms.

"Looks like we have a trickster," he said, his voice dangerously low. "Who's in charge here?"

"You."

"Then I deserve some respect, don't I?" Suddenly he grabbed her chin in one hand and tilted it to the side, then made her nod.

"I suppose so," she said in a bored tone. This infuriated him even more.

"Does being the sister of the Sheriff of Derbyshire mean that you are safe from punishment?" he said through clenched teeth. "A clue: no."

"Struck a nerve, did I?" she asked, not impolitely.

"What do you think?"

"Forgive me, my lord," she said with not a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I tend to get carried away." He studied her face, looking confused. There was a precarious silence, broken by the Sheriff.

"Truce?"

"Truce," she agreed.

"Good." He turned on his heel and went to walk out, but stopped. "Follow me, Charles," he said over his shoulder. Charlotte chuckled and Gisborne coughed, concealing his own laughter. She obeyed, skipping to the Sheriff's side and giving him a look that said, 'ha!'

"You are different, aren't you?" the Sheriff said, not unkindly, as he started to walk again.

"Forgive me, I do not understand."

"Your brother mentioned it to me that you were different. I did not believe him; all women are the same to me. Obviously you are not."

"What did my brother say?"

"To 'take extra precautions as she is my beloved sister, treat her well, blah-di-blah-di-blah… and that Charlotte is a delicate girl but a bit of a tomboy. She may behave strangely, but she is a good girl at heart'. What do you think of that?" He looked at her challengingly, daring her to object to her brother's statement. Instead, she nodded and laughed.

"That's me, all right!"

***

"Marian, this is Lady Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Lady Marian," Gisborne introduced the two. Marian nodded and Charlotte did the same.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Marian," Charlotte said, giving her a friendly smile. Marian smiled back, her blue eyes gleaming.

"The same to you, Lady Charlotte."

"I must leave now, but I trust you both shall enjoy the time together," Gisborne ordered rather than suggested. He gave each lady a nod and strode proudly out of the room.

"So," Charlotte began, trying to be sociable, "Sir Guy tells me that you are his betrothed?"

"Yes," Marian said, then muttered, "under duress."

"Oh." Charlotte was unsure how to continue on that line, so changed the subject. "Do you live in Nottingham?"  
"No, I live in Knighton Hall. My father was the former Sheriff."

"Sir Edward?" Charlotte asked. Marian looked surprised.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"My father was the Sheriff of Derbyshire, as my brother is now. He and your father were firm friends," Charlotte explained, hoping that the link, although distant, might help Marian open up. "My father's name was Richard."

"Sorry, I do not know of him. Father has never mentioned him."

"Never mind," Charlotte said. There was an awkward pause.

"Erm," Marian said, debating whether to ask the question that was nagging at her mind. She decided to. "May I enquire as to why you are here? Not meaning to be rude, but…" her voice trailed off.

"My brother sent me here in the hope of marrying me off," Charlotte said, her tone suddenly bitter. "No such luck! I should be hanged for the crime of being undesirable." Marian stared at her, shocked.

"Do not speak of yourself in such a way!" she said sternly. Marian decided that Charlotte was a little unusual; most women put themselves down to get compliments, but she appeared to be totally serious. Charlotte waved her hands in the air.

"Sorry," she said. "Let's talk about something else."

"Yes," Marian agreed. She now made an effort to talk to Charlotte, which pleased both girls. By the time that Gisborne had returned, the two felt as if they had known each other for a long time.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"So," Robin said, watching Marian as she dismounted her horse. "What have you got to tell me?" Marian put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"Not much," she said. "Or at least, nothing of particular interest to you."

"What do you mean?" Robin asked, leaning against a tree.

"That the guest is not a mysterious hit-woman or a princess or anything special, she's just a lady."

"Explain?"

"Her name is Lady Charlotte. Her brother is the Sheriff of Derbyshire and he has sent her here for the purpose of marrying her off. That is all."

"There has to be more to it than that," Robin chuckled, concealing his disappointment.

"No, not really," Marian replied. "Charlotte is a lovely girl; a little bit eccentric, but gentle and kind. Although I did notice that she has a particular distaste for the Sheriff. Then again, that is not that unusual."

"Anything else?"

"I'm not sure, but if there is, I'll keep you informed." She began to mount her horse again, but Robin grabbed her arm.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her. Marian looked at him with a forlorn expression. Suddenly, he was concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I hate pretending," she said quickly, trying to pull away.

"Pretending?"

"Mmmm," she said half-heartedly. "I hate pretending to be someone who I'm not." When Robin looked at her questioningly, she gave a small smile and mounted her horse.

"Goodbye," she said. "Don't do anything stupid." Robin laughed.

"I'll try my hardest." With a click of her tongue she was off, her chestnut mare cantering through the trees. Robin waved, but Marian was not looking. When she had completely disappeared he began to make his way back to camp.

"Master!" Much cried when Robin walked into the small clearing. "What did you find out?"

"Not much at all," Robin replied, sitting down on a log. Will Scarlet sat down beside him, eagerly awaiting the news.

"Go on," Djaq urged him, also impatient.

"Her name is Charlotte, she is the sister of the Sheriff of Derbyshire and she's here to find someone to marry," Robin said. "Not very interesting, is it?"

"Was she sent?" Djaq asked. John and Allan joined the circle, both disappointed.

"Yes, her brother sent her," Robin replied.

"Did you say that her brother was the Sheriff of Derbyshire?" Will asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yes. Why?"

"His name is Ewan. Charlotte's father's name was Richard and her mother… Elizabeth, I think. Elizabeth bore Richard five children; Ewan, Charlotte, Isaac, Caleb and another little girl, but I don't know her name," Will explained. The whole gang looked at him in shock.

"How do you know all that?" Much asked, staring at Will strangely.

"My aunt lives in Derbyshire. She's a midwife; she delivered all Lady Elizabeth's children. I only remember their names because they are so unusual," Will said, suddenly embarrassed.

"Any more surprises?" Allan asked, now intrigued.

"Only that they are all quite intelligent and really good with animals. Oh, and that Ewan is supposed to be the only fair Sheriff left in the whole of England." Robin clapped Will on the back and Allan cheered.

"Well done, my friend!" Robin praised him. Will smiled.

"Thanks," he said.

"But what has this Charlotte got to do with anything?" Djaq asked, sitting next to Will. Allan shrugged his shoulders.

"Dunno, but she sounds pretty…"

"Out of your league," Djaq finished for him. Everyone except Allan laughed.

"I'm not sure what she's got to do with anything, Djaq, but I'd like to meet her personally," Robin said when the laughter subsided.

"Oh, no," Much moaned. "Please, Master! Not today."

"No, not today. Tonight."

"No," Much begged, but Little John spoke up.

"We go to Nottingham." Much was silenced and the others sighed with relief. Everyone except Djaq.

"Men- so predictable," she muttered under her breath. "A shiny new toy arrives and they all want to see it."


	5. Chapter 5

**A big thank you to SherwoodRose- your kind comment has kept me writing!**

Chapter Five

"Elizabeth died in childbirth," Will whispered to Allan as they snuck behind a deserted cart within the walls of the castle. "Richard died not long after. They say he died from grief."

"So his son got the job?"

"Not straight away. Ewan was only twelve or so at the time."

"So how old is he now?"

"Twenty something. Not much older than me."

"So that means that Charlotte is how old?"

"It's _lady_ Charlotte to us, Allan," Will hissed, then darted behind a building. He motioned for Allan to follow, which he did. "_Lady_ Charlotte is only about twenty-three or so, maybe even younger." Allan grinned.

"She sounds just right."

***

"Remind me again, why are we here?" Much groaned as they waited outside a little known gateway into the castle. Robin sighed.

"We are here to meet Lady Charlotte. Will and Allan are going to knock out some guards and steal their uniforms, and then let us in. We creep into her room; Will and Allan stand outside her door while we talk."

"What about John and Djaq?"

"They are meeting a friend of mine to pass on a message."

"To who?" Much cried. Robin clapped his hand over Much's mouth and shushed him, checking around them to make sure that no-one had heard. Luckily for them, there wasn't a person in sight.

Suddenly the two heard a key being thrust into a lock, so they stepped back. The blackened iron gate swung open smoothly, exposing two awkward-looking guards.

"Robin?" Allan hissed. Robin slid out from the shadows and nodded at him, followed by a grumpy Much.

"Her room is the third on the right off the second hallway," Will said. "We'll meet you up there."

Robin and Much snuck in, flitting behind stationary objects and avoiding the inviting patches of flickering orange light provided by the torches hanging on the walls. Eventually they found the room and slipped inside, hoping that Charlotte was asleep.

With a finger to his lips, Robin silently crept over to the bed. Quickly, he pounced on the figure, but his fingers slipped. Confused, he tore the sheet off the bed. Pillows had been stuffed under the blankets in the crude shape of a human.

"What on earth…?" Robin muttered to himself. Suddenly, something leaped on to his back and cupped a delicate-looking hand over his mouth. At first Robin tried to resist, but Much motioned furiously for him not to.

"It is considered good manners to knock on the door before entering a room," a female voice whispered in Robin's ear. He chuckled and she slipped off, landing silently on the bed.

"Sorry, milady," Robin said, turning to face her. Charlotte's honey blonde hair was braided, the plait so long that she slung it over her shoulder and it still reached her hips. Wearing only a nightgown, the two realised that Charlotte was actually quite tiny. Her deep brown eyes were cautious as she watched the two men.

"Allow me to introduce myself; my name is…" Robin began, but Charlotte interrupted.

"Robin Hood, I know."

"Oh?" Much asked, stepping forward.

"You're a legend in these parts- it was kind of obvious," Charlotte explained. "You must be…" she studied Much's face, "… Allan A Dale? Or Will Scarlet?"

"Neither," Much muttered, disappointed. Charlotte laughed.

"Kidding, Much." Both men stared at her, astonished. "I have my sources," she said mysteriously, then continued. "But that's not what you're here to talk about, is it?"

"No," Robin said. "We were just curious, and we were wondering where your loyalties lie." Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

"Truly, that is none of your business," she began, "but if you must know, I am a strong supporter of King Richard, as is my brother. England is falling apart and people are suffering… as a matter-of –fact, I had hoped that you would visit me sometime."

"What for?" Much asked, bewildered.

"I can help you," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Here I can get inside information, plus I am a trained fighter in armed and unarmed combat."

"That's very kind of you, but we already have…" Robin said, but yet again she interrupted.

"Lady Marian. I am aware of that, but I can help in ways that she can't; for a start, I'll be living here full time." Robin and Much exchanged glances, both slightly nervous and very surprised but too proud to let it show.

"How can I trust you?" Robin asked carefully, taking care not to let his tone sound challenging or disrespectful.

"The same way you trust your men- have faith in them. Have faith in me, please," she begged, her large brown eyes pleading. Robin and Much exchanged glances again.

"We'll need a vote," Robin said. Charlotte nodded.

"Bring in your men from outside," she commanded them, no longer beseeching now that they were considering it. Robin nodded and opened the heavy oak door, waving at Allan and Will to come inside.

"We're voting on letting Lady Charlotte join the gang," Robin explained.

"Blimey! I'm not being funny, but it's a bit early, isn't it?" Allan asked, unable to see Charlotte.

"Maybe so, but you can trust me," Charlotte assured him. Allan peered at her from behind Robin and grinned at what he saw.

"You're right," he said, looking her in the eyes. "She's got my vote." She smiled back at him, making his heart flutter. Robin, Much and Will looked at each other, all of them suppressing laughs. Allan liked Charlotte _a lot._

"What do you say, lads?" Robin asked Much and Will. They both nodded.

"I think she should," Will said.

"Me too," Much agreed, "but the whole knowing-who-I-am thing is disturbing!"

"So we all agree that Charlotte should join?" Robin double checked.

"Yeah," the boys said in unison.

"But what about Little John, Djaq and Marian?" Charlotte asked. "I don't want to be the cause of any conflict."

"You're right, that is creepy," Will whispered to Much.

"We'll take an official vote later," Robin said, "but for now, we are fairly sure that you can be trusted." Charlotte smiled warmly at him.

"You can give me the result via Marian," she suggested, and Robin nodded.

"Did she tell you that she was with me?" he asked after a small silence.

"No," Charlotte said, shaking her head, "but the signs were obvious; she is supposedly your former sweetheart- that is well known- and she told me herself that she is engaged 'under duress'. Marian is a very capable and astute woman, Robin. You are very lucky to have her."

"I know," he mused, then perked up again. "We must go- thank you, Lady Charlotte."

"No, thank _you,_ Robin," Charlotte said with feeling. "I will not let you down. Now go before a real guard patrols past my door!"

The four men said a quiet goodbye, Allan's by far the most extravagant. He kissed her hand and said, "I hope to see you again, Lady Charlotte." She smiled in reply, which sent his heart beating wildly again. They then disappeared so quickly that if you had blinked, you would have missed it.

That night, Charlotte slept very well. On the other hand, the Sheriff's sleep was restless and filled with anxiety- he could sense that something was wrong. Little did he know how wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thankyou for everyone's kind reviews! ******

Chapter Six

"How did you sleep, my lord?" Sir Guy asked, meaning to be polite. The Sheriff glared at him, his eyes slightly bloodshot.

"Shut up, Gisborne!" he yelled, making Sir Guy jump. "Did I sleep like a log? A clue?" Gisborne closed his eyes, anticipating his response. "No!" the Sheriff hissed, hitting Guy over the head. "I'm in the mood for a hanging… find some trouble maker and kill them. In fact, find anyone and tie the noose around their neck!"

"Yes, my lord," Gisborne replied, rubbing his head. Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door.

"Get lost!" the Sheriff yelled, then moaned something indistinguishable to himself. When the person knocked again, he threw his sandal at the door. The knocking abruptly stopped.

"My lord," a guard called, "I have urgent news!"

"What is it?" the Sheriff shouted back, clutching his aching head. The guard opened the door and the bright morning light streamed in, making the Sheriff roar in agony.

"Close the door!" he ordered, sinking into his throne-like chair. The guard hastily obeyed, then raced to the Sheriff's side.

"Lord Arthur is due to arrive in three days, my lord," the guard explained, then braced himself in case the Sheriff threw something at him. Instead, the Sheriff froze.

"What?" he spat, turning to face the guard slowly. The Sheriff was a terrifying sight; his face was set into a malevolent-looking snarl, his eyes were bloodshot and his arms were folded defensively across his chest. The guard resisted the urge to whimper.

"Lord Arthur has left his castle, so he is expected to be arriving in three days."

"He's left already?" the Sheriff asked himself in disbelief. "Tell everyone to prepare for his arrival… and that I've got a terrible headache." When the guard began to move slowly, the Sheriff bellowed at him to make haste before resting his head on the table.

"I had the most terrible dream," he groaned. "Hood became Prince of England and I was a peasant. I had to eat barley all the time, and I had a wife and children! Oh, the tragedy of it all…" he looked up at Sir Guy. "I suppose you can go now."

"Yes, my lord," Sir Guy said, walking hurriedly to the door. He swiftly opened it and scuttled out, but made the mistake of slamming the door shut.

"GISBORNE!!!" the Sheriff roared.

***

Marian was waiting in the external hallway overlooking the courtyard, hoping that Guy would walk that way so that she could ask him some questions. She had her back against a grey stone column and was playing with one of the hairpin daggers that were lodged in her messy bun, thinking about Robin. Suddenly Sir Guy emerged, followed by a roar from the Sheriff.

"Sir Guy?" Marian asked, touching his shoulder. He immediately stopped walking and turned to face her.

"Yes, Marian?"

"I have some questions for you," she said, giving him a small smile.

"Oh?" he asked, his heart suddenly racing

"The questions are about Charlotte," Marian said, hoping that he wouldn't suddenly shut off. "I'm just curious, you see."

"Go ahead," Guy said, eager to make her happy. "Couples can share things."

"Why is she here?" Marian asked as nonchalantly as she could.

"Well," Sir Guy said, lowering his voice. "That's actually a secret, but I can trust you, can't I?" Marian nodded, so he continued. "You see, her brother Ewan is a terrible alcoholic and gambler. He recently lost a large amount of money he owed to Prince John, and was threatened with being fired and banished unless he could pay the money back.

"Our Sheriff decided to help him out a little bit- he is paying a quarter of what Ewan owes, and that in itself is quite a large amount. You see, that puts Ewan into the Sheriff's debt and totally under his control. As a way of reminding Ewan of his debt, Charlotte was sent here. She was also requested for by the Sheriff because she is a very good investment."

"I see," Marian said, but Sir Guy shook his head.

"There's a little bit more to it than that. Ewan also sent Charlotte here because when he is drunk, he has this terrible habit of hurting those around him. He has quite violent fits, and not even the servants are game to go near him. Only Charlotte ever tends to him, and she's got the scars to prove it."

"That's simply awful!" Marian exclaimed, but kept her voice low. "She told me that she was here to be married off."

"Oh, that's a small part of it as well," Guy said. "Some women are not as fortunate as you, Marian. They don't have such adoring followers. Speaking of which, I think we should spend some more time together."

"I suppose so," Marian said, trying to find a way out of that one. "Although, I am not sure how. Shopping and the like must be a terrible bore for you, Sir Guy."

"I will follow you anywhere," he said, then leant forward to kiss her. Very quickly Marian turned her cheek, so that he got her there.

"Not in public, Guy," she said, attempting to save herself.

"Forgive me," he replied, then nodded and walked off.

***

Charlotte entered the Sheriff's office, holding a tray with various items on it. She sat the tray down on his desk and pulled a chair over so that she was sitting opposite him. Carefully, she poured a clear liquid from the jug into a wooden cup and handed it to him.

"I give this to my brother when he has one of his bad headaches," she explained as he lifted the cup to his lips. He stopped for a moment.

"He must live off the stuff," he stated, then took a gulp. "Ugh! It tastes sour."

"It's good for you," she assured him, and he took another sip. "Is there any news from my brother?"

"Only a note warning me not to court you or let others do the same."

"Oh no," Charlotte sighed. "He must have had one of his drunk fits. I told him not to touch the stuff…"

The Sheriff laughed. "There's no chance of me courting you. I prefer women with a bit of meat on their bodies."

"I prefer men with a bit of hair on their heads," she retorted.

"Ouch." The Sheriff grinned at Charlotte, challenging her to say something back. Instead, she held her tongue. "Besides," he said, "I don't think I can hurt you any more than he did." Charlotte remained silent. "Do you still have those wounds on your arms?"

"Yes," Charlotte replied, trying to keep her voice steady. "He doesn't mean it, though! It's that blasted drink…"

"La-di-dah-di-dah. Just show me your arm," the Sheriff ordered. Unwillingly Charlotte rolled up her sleeve, revealing several welts, a large, purplish bruise and many little cuts that adorned her whole arm. The Sheriff frowned, surprised at the ghastly wounds.

"Don't they hurt?" he asked, poking the bruise. Charlotte winced.

"Only if you poke them."

"Ah. Sorry about that," he guffawed. "A clue?" He shook his head. There was then a silence, in which the Sheriff began to rub his temples. After about a minute or so, he said, "It feels better already."

"I told you it's good for you," Charlotte said smugly. There was another pause, broken this time by Charlotte. "Why are you helping us?"

"What?"

"I'm not being ungrateful, but why are you helping us?" Charlotte asked again. The Sheriff looked at her as if she was strange.

"I want to."

"What's in it for you, though? That's what I really want to know." The Sheriff put his fingers together and stared hard at her.

"Your brother's debt, I suppose. Debt is a very useful thing to use against other people, Charlotte, my friend. I have your brother around my little finger, and there's nothing you can do about it," he said softly, looking her right in the eyes. Charlotte's face was nearly impassive, but the hurt expression in her eyes gave her away.

"Promise me that you won't use it to harm him," she pleaded. "Do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt him."

"I intend to," he said, then stood up and stretched. "You see, Charlotte, I have you in an even better position. You would do anything to save your foolish brother; even give your own life."

"True," she replied, her tone dejected. She stood also.

"So I am in the best position of all: I have you all right where I want you," the Sheriff said gloatingly. Charlotte did not respond. "What's that I hear? A heart breaking?" he teased. Charlotte approached him, not threateningly, and pressed her ear against his chest.

"That's odd," she said. "I can't hear anything at all." The Sheriff laughed.

"Good," he said. Charlotte frowned at him.

"Usually by now your conscience would have said something," Charlotte muttered to herself, "but I'm not sure you have one." Suddenly she raised her voice. "Would you like the drink that will help you sleep now?"

"Mmm," he agreed, then put a finger under her chin. "Do you know what fascinates me about you?"

"What?" she asked, her tone emotionless.

"That you are such an intelligent, pretty little creature but you let everyone else walk all over you, just so that your brother is not shamed. You're weak. Why?"

"Because I love him," she said and then added as an afterthought, "but you wouldn't understand. It's a human emotion." Outwardly, the Sheriff laughed cruelly. Inside, though, the words stuck like barbs underneath his skin. Usually such comments would not bother him, but there was something about Charlotte that was different.

"All right, enough humour. The drink?" he ordered, and then added, "I may be heartless, but my body still has to rest." When Charlotte didn't move, he poked her in the arm again and said, "Hurry up! We don't have all day."

"Yes, my lord," she said, scowling, and poured him the drink "Sleep well," she said out of politeness, handed him the cup and walked out the door. The Sheriff watched as she made her way down the hall, surprised that she had not burst into tears.

For quite some time the Sheriff sat at his desk, tracing his fingers around the edge of the cup. For the first time in a very long time, emotions like guilt and regret swirled around his head. He tired to comfort himself with the thought of all the power he would have over Ewan, but Charlotte's disconsolate face kept looming in front of his eyes. Why did she bother him so much? Why had her comment hurt him when he thought that he was immune to that kind of pain? And what was that strange feeling that kept jabbing at his brain, heart and stomach? Maybe he had the flu.

_Definitely _the flu.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"You're in," Marian said as they walked side by side down the bustling Nottingham street. She handed Charlotte a wooden tag on a cord, her expression disapproving. "Although I don't know how, considering that you lied to me."

"What?" Charlotte asked, totally confused. Marian stopped and frowned at her.

"You told me that you were sent here to be married off," she said, ice creeping into her voice. Charlotte sighed.

"If your brother had as embarrassing and difficult circumstances as mine, then you would keep it private, wouldn't you?" she asked, her eyes imploring. "Please understand. It's not that I lied to you; I just couldn't bear to tell anyone. I suppose Gisborne told you?"

"Yes," Marian said, suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No matter. Did you tell Robin and the gang?"

"Only Robin, but the others will surely find out," Marian said, her tone reflecting her embarrassment. Charlotte shook her head.

"Don't worry about it! I'm not," she said as cheerfully as she could, then steered Marian into a fabric shop. "It's just annoying when the Sheriff has you totally under his control; he's given me a job already."

"What is it?" Marian asked, surprised.

"I am to entertain Sir Arthur what's-his-name when he arrives in two days time- the Sheriff gave me the job this morning. Goodness me, he was in a foul mood yesterday!" she exclaimed. "Apparently he didn't sleep well. He's even worse than my brother in a bad mood," she joked, then said more seriously, "not really." There was a pause as both women admired some cream coloured silk, so soft that it slipped through their fingers.

"How do you know so much?" Marian asked Charlotte suspiciously. "About Robin and the gang, I mean." Charlotte laughed quietly.

"A lot of it I didn't know, I just assumed. If I had been wrong, I would have been in deep trouble, wouldn't I?" Charlotte asked. "I learnt the names from passing travellers on my way to Nottingham- there was a lot of gossip going around, especially from the ladies of Locksley."

"Oh," Marian replied, wondering if that was the whole truth. There was an awkward silence, which Marian felt the need to break. "So you need some dresses?" Marian asked. Charlotte nodded, examining some purple cloth on a rack. "You can borrow some of mine," she offered. Charlotte raised her eyebrows and Marian laughed. "You're right; I'll give you a couple of my old ones to keep. Why are you so skinny?"

"Family curse," Charlotte chuckled. "No, when I was looking after Ewan I often forgot to eat, a bad habit that I had when I was a child. When I was raising the boys- we were orphans, you see- I often went hungry because I was busy feeding them, washing them, playing with them, etcetera, and I didn't remember to eat."

"It must have been hard," Marian observed, carefully watching Charlotte's reaction.

"Sometimes," Charlotte replied, "but I wouldn't have given it up for the world. Besides, ignore me complaining. Let's get on with the shopping."

***

In the end, Charlotte and Marian purchased some deep blue and some crimson red material as well as having Charlotte's measurements taken for a further three dresses. Marian also showed Charlotte some of her old dresses, which she gratefully accepted. When they returned to the castle, Sir Guy was waiting for them.

"How did your shopping go?" he asked, obviously not interested.

"Well, thank you," Charlotte replied. "Marian was very helpful."

"It was good fun," Marian insisted. "Although I am a bit tired now- I should go home." Sir Guy looked crestfallen.

"I hope to see you tomorrow, then," he said. "I have not forgotten what we discussed yesterday," he whispered in Marian's ear. She smiled but on the inside she cringed, dreading any outing with Sir Guy.

"Goodbye," she said and headed off in the direction of the stables. Sir Guy did not take his eyes off her for a second. When she was completely gone, he turned to Charlotte.

"The Sheriff would like to see you in his study," he said, then walked off. Charlotte's heart fell- she was hoping not to see him again for a while. Slowly she made her way up the steps and through the external hallway. When she finally reached his door she paused before knocking, trying to delay the moment as much as possible.

"Come in," he called. Charlotte opened the heavy wooden door and made her way into the semi-darkness, only just lit by a solitary candle on the Sheriff's desk. One end of the table was laden with piles and piles of paperwork, the other had an empty tray on it, probably from lunch.

The Sheriff sat there, writing furiously. He completely ignored Charlotte, who stood there patiently waiting for at least fifteen minutes before he said anything.

"Sit," he ordered, waving at the chair on the opposite side to him. She obeyed wordlessly and he continued to ignore her.

After one full hour, Charlotte decided to speak up. "Do you have any awful conversation starters I can borrow? I've run out." The Sheriff looked up at her.

"How about 'shut up, I'm working'?"

"That would be a riveting conversation," Charlotte muttered under her breath. The Sheriff chuckled to himself.

"Did you get yourself a pretty dress?" he asked her, his voice mocking.

"Yeah, I did, actually. A couple of them."

"I know it's not natural for you to act like a civilised woman, or a woman at all for that matter, but try your hardest," the Sheriff said, carrying on with his writing.

"I should take some lessons from you, Viola," she said casually, studying her nails. The Sheriff's quill suddenly stopped scratching whatever word it was on to the parchment in the bleak blue ink he used. He placed it on the table next to him and stared at Charlotte, who was looking at him rebelliously.

"What did you call me here for, anyway?" Charlotte asked.

"Actually, to apologise," he said, his voice entirely serious. "I behaved inappropriately yesterday, mostly due to my headache but also because I was in a foul mood." Charlotte stared at him in disbelief, her eyes wide.

"I beg your pardon?" she demanded. The Sheriff groaned.

"Don't make me say it again."

"Technically, you didn't say it at all." He glared at her.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour yesterday. Forgive me," the Sheriff said, obviously pained. Charlotte smiled warmly at him and for some reason he didn't understand, he felt good inside. Must have been the drink- it probably had strange side effects.

"You do have a conscience," she murmured, looking him right in the eyes. "Of course you're forgiven," she said more loudly.

"All right," he said, "don't go all soppy on me. You may go."

"In other words, get lost?" she asked. He chuckled in a sinister Sheriff sort of way.

"That's exactly right."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Two days later, Robin and the gang were patrolling the forest when Little John rushed into Robin and Much –who were partners- and cried out "Wagon on the west road!" The three then made their way there as fast as they could, where sure enough, a wagon was rattling along.

Allan, who had been John's partner, arrived not long after with Will and Djaq. The three were very out of breath, especially Allan, because they had been the farthest away and Allan had to run there and back.

"This must be the guest that Charlotte told us about," Much said, watching as the wagon pulled to a stop.

"Why are they stopping?" Will puffed. Robin shrugged his shoulders.

"To enjoy the scenery. No, I don't know, Will."

"What was his name?" Djaq gasped, just as out of breath as Will was.

"Sir Arthur of Shropshire. A knight, I think," Robin said, craning his head to get a better look at the wagon.

"Why is the Sheriff inviting a knight?" Much asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Robin said, "but I think he might be a representative for someone else.

"He's not a knight," Allan wheezed, waving at the man who got out of the wagon. He was dressed elaborately in sapphire and gold clothes, and looked even fiercer than an angry Sheriff. His brow was set in an eternal frown and in stature he was quite short, although he looked no older than thirty.

"You're right," Robin agreed with him. "He's definitely not a knight."

"Are we going to stop him?" Little John asked. "We could squeeze some information out of him."

"No, we won't stop him," Robin said, then reconsidered. "Actually, that's an excellent idea, John. We'll take his purse and ask him some questions."

"Master," Much moaned, but no-one payed any attention to him. Instead, they spread out and began to get ready to attack.

John went first, roaring as he charged straight at the man, tackling him to the ground. Will, Djaq and Allan took out the couple of men that were with him, Much quieted the horses and Robin joined John, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the stranger's throat.

"This, my friends, is an ambush!" Allan cried.

"Who are you?" Robin demanded. The stranger groaned.

"Vaizey said to take the long way around," he grumbled. "Why didn't I take his advice?"

"I don't know, my friend. Why don't you tell us why you are here in the first place?"

"Because some random outlaw decided to attack an innocent man," he retorted, and then spat in Robin's face. Robin pulled the bowstring back and the man hastily apologised. "Sorry, sorry. No need for that," he said.

"Why did the Sheriff invite you?" Robin asked, moving so that he stood directly over the man.

"He didn't," the man replied. "I am my master's decoy."

"What?" Robin asked him, tilting his head to the side and drawing the bowstring back again. "Tell the truth."

"I swear on my life, I am not Arthur of Shropshire. He is my master and I am a decoy, sent through the forest so that he could make his way through while I distract you," the man said, his voice getting higher as he became more panicked. "My name is Roger. Please don't hurt me! I have a wife and five children to look after. My master offered to pay me triple what I am usually payed if I acted as him."

"Do we believe him?" Robin asked John. John nodded. "We should give our friend a rest," Robin said, winking at John.

"A rest?" John asked, then understood. He gave Roger a fake smile and then whacked him across the head with his staff. Roger immediately lost consciousness.

"What did he say?" Much asked, looking down at he unconscious man with contempt.

"Not much," Robin said. "He was a decoy."

"What? How can you tell?" Will asked, making his way over.

"Look at his hands- they're the hands of a peasant. They're scarred and perpetually dirty, much like ours," he joked.

"What are we going to do with him?" Allan asked, nudging Roger's limp body with his toe. "He's not much use like this. Why didn't you ask him which direction his master was coming from?"

"He already told us that the Sheriff warned him not to go in the forest- Arthur must have sent his servant through here to distract us so that we couldn't search outside the forest while he made his way around," Robin explained. "We need someone to go to Nottingham to spy on him there."

"What about Charlotte?" Allan reminded him. "She'll be keeping an eye on him, won't she?"

"But we do not know if Charlotte is totally on our side," Djaq objected. All eyes turned to look at her.

"What do you mean?" Much asked.

"Yeah, what do you mean by that?" Allan echoed him. Djaq sighed.

"Don't you see? She could be using us!"

Suddenly the gang heard the thunder of hooves as someone approached them. They all leapt into the earthy green-brown undergrowth, hoping that it camouflaged them enough. Before too long, Marian sped into view on her chestnut mare. She stopped abruptly once seeing the unconscious men on the ground below her and called out, "Robin!"

Robin jumped out of his hiding spot, surprising Marian. "Yes?" he replied.

"Charlotte has just told me… but I suppose you've found out already," she said, looking down again at the men.

"Go on," Robin urged.

"The man in the wagon travelling through the forest is a decoy. The real Arthur will be travelling one of the routes that avoid the forest, but it is unknown which one. Charlotte only found out this morning," she explained.

"Do you see, Djaq?" Robin called out. "Charlotte only discovered Arthur's route this morning, and it's only just midday."

"Doesn't Djaq trust Charlotte?" Marian asked. Robin shook his head. "I don't know why," Marian mumbled, searching for Djaq.

"Thank you anyway, Marian," Robin said. "You had best get back, before someone misses you."

"Yes," Marian agreed, and nudged her horse into a trot. "Goodbye," she called over her shoulder as they went around the corner, then she was gone.

"Come out," Robin called and all the gang suddenly appeared as if from nowhere.

"He looks like a lord or someone important to me," Much observed, bending down to study Roger's face. "Look at that frown!"

"That's why they picked him, Much," Will sighed, sensing an argument. Instead, to everyone's amazement, Much shut up.

"What do we do now?" Allan asked.

"There's not much we can do," Robin replied. "We're in Charlotte's hands now."

"Isn't that a bit dangerous?" Djaq insisted. Allan groaned.

"Why do you hate her so much?" he demanded. "I'm not being funny, but you talk about her as if she were the plague!"

"Leave her alone," Will said, standing in front of Djaq.

"I don't hate her!" Djaq raised her voice, which was unusual for her. "It's just that she doesn't seem right to me. How does she know our names? Why does she want to work for us when she doesn't even know us very well?"

"Djaq," John cautioned, speaking up for the first time.

"Have you met her?" Robin asked, leaning on his bow. Djaq shook her head. "Maybe that's it then- it is hard to trust someone when you've never met them."

"Thank you!" Djaq cried. "At least somebody understands." Will looked hurt, but Djaq was behind him, so she didn't see. "Did you disagree with me because I am a woman?"

"NO!" all the men cried in unison. Djaq laughed.

"Good," she said. "Now let's go back to camp and start planning."

"Doing my job, are we, Djaq?" Robin teased. She playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"I suppose I am."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

For the first time since Charlotte's arrival, the weather was awful. The afternoon brought an onslaught of dreary, rain-laden clouds that hung in the air like a premonition.

Charlotte was the brightest thing for miles, as she wore a brilliant crimson dress that stood out in the grim grey of everything else. The dress complimented her figure very well, as it was tight, which emphasised her already slim waist and had very long sleeves, which hid her wounded arms.

Eventually a wagon pulled into the courtyard. Sir Guy rushed to open the door for Lord Arthur, who emerged wearing exactly the same clothes as Roger. The real Lord Arthur was quite handsome, with large, baby blue eyes and tousled caramel brown hair. His body was quite muscled underneath his clothes and he had broad shoulders, which made him look even stronger.

'_Here we go!'_ Charlotte thought to herself. The Sheriff walked down to Arthur and welcomed him warmly, but Charlotte could tell that the warmth in the welcome was forced. Luckily, Arthur couldn't. The Sheriff then led Arthur up the steps to where Charlotte was standing. Her heart began to race as she studied Arthur more closely, noticing the scar over his left eyebrow and the little bit of his right ear missing, among other things.

"This is Lady Charlotte," the Sheriff said. "Lady Charlotte, this is Lord Arthur of Shropshire." Lord Arthur's pupils enlarged when he drank in the sight of Charlotte and a silly grin spread over his lips.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Charlotte said, battering her eyelids. Arthur lapped it up, but Charlotte felt like an idiot.

"Charmed, I'm sure," he said, kissing her hand. Charlotte blushed in embarrassment rather than pleasure. The Sheriff's expression was unreadable.

"Let's go inside before it begins to rain," the Sheriff suggested. Arthur nodded, but kept his eyes on Charlotte.

Dinner was a blur for Arthur, as was supper. Lord Arthur loved to talk, but he loved to talk to beautiful women even more so. For Charlotte, the hours dragged on. Eventually she resorted to one word responses and began to only listen to half the conversation, asking the occasional question when she felt it faltering. Lord Arthur insisted on dancing and, when he had a bit too much to drink, playing with Charlotte's hair. She was glad when the evening was over.

"Ugh," she said, sinking into the chair opposite the Sheriff's desk. "Rocks are more interesting than Lord Arthur of Shropshire's conversation. At least rocks aren't self obsessed."

"I can't say I've ever heard a rock talk," the Sheriff said, sitting down in his chair.

"My point exactly," Charlotte said darkly.

"You did fairly well," the Sheriff congratulated her. "That idiot is completely infatuated with you."

"I don't know how."

"Me either," the Sheriff joked. Charlotte smiled at him.

"How many nights?" she asked.

"Four more, and two of those will be days as well."

"Kill me now," Charlotte groaned.

"That would be a waste."  
"How?"

"He hasn't signed the contract yet," the Sheriff said, then stood up. He moved so that he was behind Charlotte and began to rub her shoulders.

"Don't be nice to me all of a sudden just because I'm helping you out," Charlotte warned.

"It's not like you have a choice," the Sheriff reminded her. "Besides, what if I like to be nice to you?"

"What do you want?" she asked. "You're doing an awful lot of sucking up."

"Me?" the Sheriff feigned shock. Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Nothing," he assured her, then put his head next to hers so that they were cheek to cheek. "Nothing at all."

"As you insist, I'll take Lord Talkalot on a leisurely ride through the forest and then maybe have a picnic there," she mock-sighed.

"Good girl." The two remained motionless for quite some time, and then the Sheriff stood up and stretched. "I'm ready for bed," he told her.

"Me too," she replied. "Goodnight." With that, she stood up and walked out the door, not looking back.

"Goodnight," the Sheriff echoed, blowing out the candle on his desk.

***

Djaq stood in the clearing, her head bathed in the ghostly moonlight. Will watched her from afar, too nervous to approach her. His heart swelled whenever he laid eyes on her, and a bright red glow rushed to his cheeks. If only he could admit his feelings.

He wondered if she had ever been in love before.

He wondered what she thought of him.

He wondered if secretly she liked him too.

That last question caused a boyish smile to spread over his lips.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Early the next morning, Gisborne found himself standing outside Charlotte's door with the Sheriff beside him. For some reason, the Sheriff insisted on Sir Guy speaking to her first. When Guy had asked why, he merely replied, "She likes you more."

Reluctantly, Gisborne tapped on the door. He could hear Charlotte plucking the strings of a lute and singing quietly to herself. She was actually quite good; she had a lovely singling voice and her fingers deftly found the right notes. Suddenly, the music stopped.

"Come in!" Charlotte called. Sir Guy turned the door handle and pushed the door, it giving a defiant creak as it swung open.

For an instant, Gisborne was speechless. There in front of him, with the light streaming in from the open window behind her, was an angel. Or at least, that was how Charlotte appeared.

Wrapped around her like a toga was what looked like a large linen scarf, so dazzlingly white that is appeared to be giving off a light of its own. Charlotte was sitting with the lute in her lap, her chocolate brown eyes expectant as she watched Sir Guy. Her long, honey blonde hair was draped over her shoulders like a scarf, as if it was replacing the one that was wrapped around her. He discovered a sprinkle of freckles on her pixie-like nose, which he had never noticed before. The brilliant light from the window shone off her golden-brown skin, like an aura radiating around her.

Something was different, though. It took a moment for Gisborne to realise what it was. Without one of her heavy medieval dresses, Charlotte was tiny. She still had curves, but was quite slim. She was also very short; her bare feet dangled a good few inches off the ground as she sat on her chair.

The last thing that Sir Guy noticed was the weathered string of shells that hung around her small ankle. Some of the shells were white, while others were yellowed. Somehow the shells made the image complete, reminding everyone who Charlotte was; eccentric, a lady, an angel, a fighter and a warm, loving light that shone out to others. An indescribable mix of differences that somehow fit together perfectly.

"Finished perving yet?" Charlotte asked, bringing Gisborne back down to earth.

"Uh," he said, forgetting what he was there for.

"Did you have a message for me?" she asked. He nodded.

"That's right," he said. "The Sheriff would like to speak to you."

"Then why didn't the Sheriff come himself?"

"He did, actually."

"Well, tell him to wait a moment so that I can get dressed properly," Charlotte said, beginning to rise out of her seat.

"Too late," the Sheriff said, walking through the door. Like Gisborne, he was momentarily astounded. Unlike Gisborne, he picked himself up without making a fool of himself. "I know that Lord Arthur would love that, but it might ruin my reputation if one of my associates went around naked."

"Half-naked," Charlotte replied. "I do have something on. Anyway, I was thinking a blue dress for today. What do you think?"

"Whatever- Arthur will still be drooling all over you."

"Is today an entertainment day?" Charlotte asked.

"Mmmm," the Sheriff replied, nodding his head. "I trust you've got something enjoyable in mind?"

"Horse riding, a walk in the forest and a picnic; exactly what we discussed last night. Does that sound pleasurable to you?"

"I suppose, but it doesn't matter what I think. I'm not going," he reminded her. "Thank goodness- I don't think my ears could stand much more of his jabbering on."

"Me either," Guy muttered.

"Alright, then. Now get out of my room so that I can get dressed!" Charlotte ordered. Gisborne raced out but the Sheriff stayed a moment longer.

"Don't stay too long in the forest," he warned. "Outlaws infest the woodland around here. I wouldn't want a helpless woman getting hurt."

"I can take care of myself," she told him, motioning with her hands for him to go. "Besides, I thought we agreed that I'm a man."

***

"Robin!" Will called, tearing into the camp. "There's something you have to see!"

"What is it?" Robin asked, lowering his bow. He had been doing target practice. "Is it urgent?"

"No, but just come anyway," Will insisted. Robin exchanged glances with Allan and Much, who shrugged their shoulders.

"What are we waiting for?" Allan asked. "Let's go!"

The whole gang found themselves weaving through the dark forest, each finding pleasure in the scarce but welcoming patches of sunshine. Eventually they reached a clearing, and Will put a finger to his lips.

The real Lord Arthur lay fast asleep on green blanket beside a woven reed basket, which was filled to the brim with food. A guard was slumped in front of a large tree, also asleep or knocked out- you couldn't be too sure with Charlotte. Charlotte herself was nowhere to be seen.

"That's the real Lord Arthur," Will announced triumphantly. "He's here on a picnic with Lady Charlotte."

"You can just call me Charlotte," she said from behind them. Everyone whirled around to face her. "Hello!" she said, grinning. Allan gave Will a look that said 'I told you so!'

"It's not _Lady _Charlotte," he muttered just loud enough for Will to hear.

"What are you doing here?" Robin asked, waving his hands in the direction of the two unconscious men.

"Taking a relaxing walk through the forest," Charlotte replied, putting her hands on her hips. "Robin, the polite thing to do would be to introduce me to Djaq and John," she hinted. Robin nodded.

"Charlotte, this is my friend, Little John," he said, clapping John on the shoulder. John gave a friendly smile and nodded at her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Little John," Charlotte said cordially, "although might I add that there is nothing little about you?"

"It's a nickname," he explained, then chuckled to himself.

"And this is my friend Djaq," Robin cut in, touching Djaq on the arm. Djaq studied Charlotte carefully before giving a small smile.

"Hello," she said, her dark brown eyes observant as she extended a hand. Charlotte shook it and returned the smile.

"I hear that you are the scientist of the gang," Charlotte said.

"Oh, not really," Djaq replied, blushing.

"If you do not mind, I would like to learn from you," Charlotte asked, crossing her fingers behind her back for luck. It was one of Charlotte's dearest wishes to learn more about science, especially on the medical side and alchemy.

"Of course!" Djaq said, pleased that Charlotte appreciated her work. The two beamed at each other and Robin could tell that they were going to be firm friends.

"Not meaning to interrupt, but what about those two?" Much whispered, jerking his thumb behind him.

"Oh, they'll be out cold for a while," Charlotte said. "Especially the guard."

"What did you do?" Robin asked, his tone similar to that of a wary parent.

"I only put a sleeping potion in their drinks," she cried, then added more softly, "and I might have hit the guard over the head a bit."

"I have a plan," Robin announced, leaning against the closest tree. All eyes turned to him, eager and cautious at the same time. "One of you gets into the guards clothes and goes back with Charlotte. We'll question the real one."

"Why don't we question Lord Arthur?" Will asked, shrugging his shoulders.

"Because he'll go back to the Sheriff and tell him."

"What if we threaten him?" Allan suggested. John flexed his arms.

"No, we're not thugs," Robin reminded them. "We have to let the Sheriff think that we don't know anything about him."

"Where did Charlotte go?" Much asked, suddenly turning around. Everyone except Robin turned their heads, searching for her. When they all gave up and faced Robin again, he motioned for them to look up.

Sure enough, high up in the tree, perched on a branch like a squirrel, was Charlotte. She looked down at them contentedly, like she was pleased with them finally discovering her.

"Took you a while," she teased, then leapt down to the next branch. She continued to do this until she finally reached the ground, not even slightly out of breath or shaken by the experience. In fact, she looked as if she had enjoyed it.

"That girl has no fear," Much murmured, the others nodding in agreement.

"Anyway," Charlotte said, taking a spot in between Robin and a very pleased Allan. "Continue with the conversation."

"Actually we were finished," Robin said, and then tousled her hair. "Or at least, we were nearly finished before we were interrupted by a large squirrel."

"I'll volunteer for being the guard," Allan said, perhaps a little bit too eagerly.

"All right, we have one volunteer," Robin said. "Who's going to help me interview the guard?" Little John raised his hand. "The rest of you- I'll meet you back at camp." With that, the others scattered. John walked into the clearing and dragged the unconscious guard to where the others were standing and the men began to proceed with stripping off his armour. Charlotte disappeared again, returning holding a real squirrel in her arms. With her around, the animal was quite tame, but as soon as she put it down, it sped away. Robin watched in fascination- Charlotte appeared to have a natural talent for working with animals. When Allan was finally in the guard's uniform, the men made an effort to wake the real guard up.

"Pour water over his face," Allan suggested, kicking the guard in the side. Suddenly, he groaned. Instinctively, Charlotte moved away. Unconscious man + strangers = trouble.

***

"Charlotte, my lovely, where are you?" Arthur called, sitting up and rubbing his woozy head. "Where have you gone?"

"Over here," she said, emerging out of the forest. "I just went for a quick walk."

"All by yourself? Don't you know that there are unsavoury characters in this forest?"

"I didn't go far," she assured him. "Why don't we have lunch now?"

"Oh, in a moment. First there is something I would like to try." He smirked at her and stood up. Suddenly he advanced on Charlotte, taking her by surprise. Before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her.

"Oh! Arthur," Charlotte cried in shock. Arthur misunderstood and took it for pleasure.

"I thought I should take my chance while the chaperone guard was gone. Incidentally, where is that numbskull?" Arthur asked, his arm snaking around Charlotte's waist.

"He went off to relieve himself… in fact, there he is," Charlotte said, pointing at an approaching Allan. Arthur let go of her immediately.

"Oi!" Allan called. Charlotte frowned at him, so instead of telling Arthur off, he said, "When's lunch being served?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Arthur, Charlotte and Allan entered the nearly empty courtyard on their horses quite some time later. The only person there was the Sheriff, who greeted them with the customary smirk on his face.

"I trust that your time was enjoyable?" he asked Arthur as he dismounted.

"Oh, very," Arthur replied, glancing at a blushing Charlotte. The Sheriff noticed this and mentally stored it for later use.

"Why don't you two go inside," he suggested, looking at Charlotte. She nodded, dismounted and motioned for Arthur to follow her, which he did keenly. The Sheriff waited until they were inside before turning to a panicking Allan.

"Did anything unusual happen?" he asked.

"Like what?" Allan replied, trying to keep his fear under control. The Sheriff scowled.

"Did Robin Hood turn up? Did Arthur kiss her? Did your inbred cousin arrive and you threw a party?" the Sheriff hissed. "Just tell me what happened."

"Well," Allan began, a lie already forming in his head. "We went for a ride until we found a clearing, ate lunch and had a bit of a rest," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

"La-di-dah-di-dah. I don't care about that, just tell me if something interesting happened!" the Sheriff cried, waving his hands in the air.

"I had to relieve myself and when I returned, I did see Lord Arthur kissing Lady Charlotte," Allan said, bracing himself in case the Sheriff hit him.

"Did she kiss him back?" he asked, his voice low.

"Nah, don't think so. She was pretty shocked, though," Allan laughed. This time the Sheriff did hit him, whacking Allan over the head with his hand. "Ow!" Allan grumbled.

"Get out of my sight," the Sheriff ordered, then walked up the steps and into the hall.

"Yes, my lord Sheriff," Allan replied, rolling his eyes and heading the opposite way.

***

"So, I hear that Arthur kissed you?" the Sheriff mocked Charlotte. She laughed humorlessly.

"More like attacked me," she chortled, leaning against the stone wall of the Sheriff's office. "That was my first kiss, and I don't think I'll ever do it again. How is it romantic to have someone else's spit shoved down your throat?"

"The general idea is to return it," he said. "It's a two sided thing- although it might have been a bit awkward for you. Considering that you're a man, it might not have been the most ideal first kiss."

"Ha-ha," Charlotte said sarcastically. The Sheriff walked over to her, his face only inches from hers.

"Mind you, if it was your first, you wouldn't have had any practice," he said softly, then leant forward. Again, Charlotte was taken by surprise as the Sheriff kissed her gently on the lips, no tongue involved. Afterwards he leant back again, and said, "Poor man. You are an awful kisser."

"You took me by surprise," she replied, then leant forward herself. This kiss was considerably less gentle, with the Sheriff wrapping his arms around her waist and Charlotte putting her hands behind his head. When they were finished, she asked, "Was that better?"

"Slightly. I think we need more practice," the Sheriff said, pulling back to look at her.

"If you want affection, why don't you hire yourself a tavern wench?" Charlotte sighed.

"Oh, you're much more fun," the Sheriff replied. "Besides, I don't have to pay you."

***

"Who is Lord Arthur?" Robin asked casually as the guard sipped wine from a flask.

"Dunno. Alchemist or summat, I think," the Guard replied, his speech slurred. Robin looked at John, who shrugged his shoulders.

"What does the Sheriff want with an alchemist?" Robin asked himself aloud.

"Can't help yeh there," the Guard said. "He don't tell us guards nothin'."

"Listen, my friend. You won't tell the Sheriff a word, will you?" Robin's face was serious and slightly frightening.

"Won't tell him a word," the Guard replied. "He ain't ever given us a free drink and a talk. Mark my words, Robin, I'll tell no-one."

"I am sorry about your uniform," Robin said. "My friend is only borrowing it. We'll have it returned to you as soon as possible."

"No rush." Suddenly the guard stood up. "I'd best be getting home- the missus will be wonderin' where I am." Robin nodded.

"Do you live in Nottingham? We can give you a lift there if you want," he offered, reluctant to let the drunken guard go home by himself. The guard shook Robin's hand.

"Sure can! So what's the story?"

"How about you were let off early and went to the inn?"

"Sounds good teh me," the guard said. Robin rolled his eyes at John, who guffawed to himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Lord Arthur of Shropshire lovingly caressed his most favourite thing in the entire world; and you may be surprised to learn that it wasn't Charlotte.

Alchemy was Lord Arthur's purpose in life, the very reason that he had been born. He loved nothing more than to mix chemicals and watch the results, or experiment with exotic materials. It made him feel so… _alive._ That was why he was so attached to his book of secrets, which he had been collecting since he was twelve.

The Sheriff snorted in disgust as he watched Arthur practically prance from one side of the room to the other; busy mixing potions, stirring hot tubs of liquid and measuring out his precious materials. Pathetic. It was nearly as bad as watching Gisborne swoon over his beloved peasant-sympathising leper.

* * *

Allan waited impatiently outside the alchemy room, beginning to doubt that the plan was such a good idea after all. He didn't mind lying his way out of something, it was just the running part he hated. Especially the running part…

Charlotte stood patiently beside him, lost in her thoughts. _'I wonder how Ewan is. Is Isaac enjoying his time as a squire? Is Caleb taking his medicine . . . ?'_

Marian stood beside Charlotte, thinking about Robin. _'I wonder how things would have turned out if he hadn't run off like a naïve little boy to his glorified war? It is childish to wonder about such things, but where would we be now? Certainly not in this mess.'_

Sir Guy stood beside Marian, studying her features. When she glanced at him, he exuded nonchalance; or at least, he hoped so. _ 'One day she will be mine!'_ he kept reminding himself.

Eventually Arthur cried "Ah-ha!" and every head turned in the direction of the door. Arthur emerged with a huge grin on his face, followed by a gleeful Sheriff.

"I trust that it was successful, my lord?" Sir Guy enquired, hoping for the best. The best meant a happy Sheriff and a happy Sheriff meant time off, which meant more time to pursue Marian…

"What do you think, you idiot?" was the Sheriff's brash reply.

* * *

"What was it that you have so cunningly created?" Charlotte flattered Lord Arthur, trying to squeeze some useful information out of the self-obsessed man, who was particularly cocky and pleased now that he had accomplished his goal. They were standing out in the external hallway, watching the sun set.

"Alchemy is a difficult science, my dear. No woman would be able to comprehend the wonders that we alchemists unravel." Lord Arthur puffed his chest out like a peacock.

"No, sir," Charlotte replied, exasperated, "but what do your creations _do_?"

"_Do_!" Arthur cried, momentarily offended. "One liquid will melt iron, the next is a substance to rival Greek fire and the last is one of my own discoveries, which I cannot reveal to the likes of you. A woman would not understand."

"Forgive me, my lord," Charlotte said suddenly, stroking his arm. Arthur immediately calmed down.

'_A liquid to melt iron?' _Charlotte thought to herself. _'A substance to rival Greek fire? Surely this information should be passed on to Robin…"_

* * *

Allan A Dale tucked a stray lock of hair behind the servant girl's ear, crooning meaningless romantic words as he did so. The girl lapped up the affection, smiling and giggling the whole time.

"So if I ever need your help, I can rely on you, love?"

"Of course!"

"I knew that I could trust someone as wildly beautiful and intelligent looking as you, Annie sweetheart." With that he was gone, leaving Anne with a pounding heart and stars twinkling before her eyes.

"Excellent," Allan muttered as he whipped around the next corner, only to have a hand sneak over his mouth and a dagger at his throat.

"Stay very still," a muffled voice ordered. That voice was familiar…

"It's me, Marian!" Allan insisted, but Marian couldn't hear.

"Hold your tongue or loose it!" Marian hissed. They heard footsteps approaching, so Marian dragged Allan into the shadows. Two guards strolled past, talking about nothing in particular. Only after they had gone did Marian take her hand away from Allan's mouth, but she pressed the dagger further against his neck in warning.

"It's me, Allan A Dale!" Allan hissed. Marian sighed in relief.

"I thought you were a foul guard chatting up an innocent servant girl," she explained, her voice a mere whisper. "How did you know it was me?"

Allan turned to face Marian, who had a hood over her head and a blue scarf over her mouth. "I dunno, actually. Just luck, I suppose," he replied.

"What _were_ you doing?" Marian asked, her tone suspicious. Allan grinned.

"Planning my escape."

"Oh." Marian raised an eyebrow. "Anyway, have you seen Charlotte since this afternoon?"

"Nope."

"Bother," Marian cursed, clenching her fists. "That girl is going to get us all in trouble. I wish she would tell me where she was going."

"Sometimes I don't think she knows herself," Allan replied.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Charlotte snuck silently into the alchemy chamber, her heart in her mouth. Although it was like a drum in her ears, she was as silent as a shadow as she crept across the room.

'_What on earth am I doing?'_ she asked herself as she searched for a particular item. When she found it, a grin spread over her face.

"Gotcha," she whispered.

* * *

At the very end of the table, which was festooned with food, the Sheriff and Sir Guy of Gisborne were watching Lord Arthur and Charlotte dancing. The Sheriff was spread out in a comfortable position in his throne-like chair, but his expression was far from relaxed. Sir Guy stood behind him, his arms folded over his chest.

"Look at those legs," Sir Guy said, more to himself than to the Sheriff.

"You're engaged," the Sheriff replied, handing his empty wine cup to Gisborne without even looking at him. Sir Guy scowled.

"Lord Arthur holds Charlotte so closely that it's a wonder that the poor girl can breathe," Marian added, approaching from behind. Sir Guy turned around, resisting the urge to grin.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance?" Gisborne asked Marian, his blue eyes bright. Unfortunately for him- but luckily for Marian- the music stopped at that exact moment.

"Maybe some other time," Marian said, barely concealing the delight in her voice.

"Ah! Marian!" Charlotte welcomed her, pulling away from Lord Arthur's's tight grasp. She walked up to her and linked her arm in hers, immediately coming up with false gossip that would bore the men as she steered Marian away.

"Where on earth have you been?" Marian demanded as soon as they were out of earshot. "I was worried sick about you."

Charlotte looked genuinely surprised. "Really? You needn't be."

"What have you been up to?"

"Well, first I congratulated Lord Talkalottaboutnothing, then I got dressed and then I came here. Nothing interesting."

"I see," Marian said, obviously not convinced.

"Let's go and eat," Charlotte suggested, motioning towards the food. "I'm starved."

"Peasants starve, not lucky people like you and I. Evil people like the Sheriff ensure this. Rich people merely get hungry," Marian chided. Charlotte shrugged her shoulders.

"Whatever. I could still eat a horse."

* * *

It was near midnight. Charlotte perched comfortably on the stone stairway that lead up from the courtyard, staring at the stars. She sat stock still, her head craned up towards the dark sky. Oh, the solitude! Charlotte loved more than anything else in the entire world to be alone with her thoughts. Unfortunately, sometimes your thoughts are unforgiving and cruel.

A dark shape slithered towards her, but Charlotte was not at all alarmed. The shadow was vastly disfigured, but it was only a cat. Its amber eyes were like headlamps, sweeping across the courtyard. Its paws padded lightly across the stones, making only a whisper of a sound as it approached her.

"Hello, cat," she welcomed it. It mewed in reply and rubbed against her. Involuntary tears trickled down Charlotte's cheeks as she stroked the animal gently, remembering things that she had hidden away for a long time.

"Am I insane?" Charlotte asked it. "Am I doing the right thing?" There was no reply, and Charlotte smiled. "We're not so different, you and me," she told the cat. "We're wanderers, never quite able to tell a home from a prison."

* * *

The Sheriff lay in his bed, thinking about his exploits and basking in his own glory. He sighed. This usually helped him to sleep, so why not tonight? Deep down, he knew the answer. He had never even considered that possibility…

Light footsteps made the Sheriff freeze. _'Hood!'_ was his first thought, followed by '_Blast!'_ A shadow leapt across his wall, then disappeared. Vaizey tried to calm his wildly beating heart, preparing himself for another Robin encounter. He needed to appear calm and blasé, otherwise Hood would think he had the upper hand- and Vaizey could not have that.

A hand was cupped over the Sheriff's mouth. With an irked sigh, he rolled over. The figure was hooded and wore earthy toned clothes.

"Not you again, surely?" the Sheriff groaned. "Please tell me that I'm dreaming and you're actually a beautiful woman." There was an indignant noise from the hooded person as they pulled off their cloak.

"Define beautiful," Charlotte scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. This time it was the Sheriff's turn to make a funny noise.

"Charlotte?" he demanded. She rolled her eyes in reply. "Is that really you?"

"I should hope that it's not anyone else," Charlotte muttered, making the Sheriff chuckle. "Last time I checked, I was me."

"Why are you here?"

"Well, actually…."

"Well actually I don't really care," the Sheriff interrupted, coming back to his senses. A sly grin spread across his face. "But go on, if you must."

"I can't sleep," Charlotte said, sinking down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"So you decided to interrupt mine?"

"You weren't really asleep."

"So what if I wasn't?"

"Anyway…" Charlotte said, moving into a lying position beside him. "I actually wanted to ask you a question." At this, the Sheriff laughed.

"Ask away! Just nothing about money." There was an awkward silence.

"Why did you kiss me?" Charlotte blurted out suddenly, then turned bright red.

"Because I wanted to," the Sheriff replied, giving Charlotte a cheeky grin. There was another silence, this time broken by the Sheriff. "You don't see anything in Arthur, do you? Anything at all?"

"Oh, he has qualities…" Charlotte said. The Sheriff pulled a disgusted face and she laughed. "Awful qualities!"

Relieved, the Sheriff sighed, "You could do worse."

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed, "if I married you."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a peasant, but point taken." Charlotte thought the Sheriff took the joke quite well, until his features became taut. _'Damn,'_ Charlotte thought, then stroked his hand, only barely aware of making the gesture.

"Oh dear," Charlotte whispered, pretending to be shocked. "My virtue!"

"What?" the Sheriff asked, his features relaxing again.

"I'm lying with a man," she explained. The Sheriff laughed.

Suddenly the door was flung open and Charlotte jumped to her feet.

"Fire! Fire, my lord!" a guard cried, rushing into the room.

"WHAT?" the Sheriff demanded, rolling out of bed. The guard raised his eyebrows at Charlotte, who smiled innocently at him. "What are you on about?" the Sheriff cried.

"The alchemy room is on fire, my lord!" the guard yelled. The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but mid-roll, something clicked.

"PUT IT OUT!" he bellowed. "YOU BLITHERING IDIOTS! PUT THAT FIRE OUT BEFORE…" but he didn't get any further because Lord Arthur burst into the room.

"MY CREATIONS! MY BOOK! ALL FOR NOTHING!" he sobbed, blindly rushing into the guard. "Everything is ruined!"

Much yelling and sobbing and gnashing of teeth followed that, accompanied by an exchange of rude words and gestures from a fuming Sheriff.

"So what do I do now?" the guard asked Charlotte. She shrugged her shoulders.

"Go and put it out, I suppose."

* * *

Bucket-loads of water later, the alchemy room was a charcoal covered mess. Even the grey stone walls were a nasty shade of black. The Sheriff, on the other hand, was a nasty shade of red.

A distraught Lord Arthur left for his home that morning.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

"There was a fire in the castle last night," Marian told Robin as she dismounted from her horse. "In the alchemy room."

"A fire?" Robin echoed. Suddenly they both heard the sound of pounding hooves, so Robin dove behind a tree.

"Charlotte?" Marian asked as a white horse that looked a lot like the Sheriff's cantered towards her. Astride was Charlotte, her teal coloured dress flapping in the wind.

"How...?" Marian began, but Charlotte interrupted her.

"Give this to Robin for me, would you?" Charlotte asked, tossing Marian a leather bound book, which she deftly caught. With that, Charlotte was off again, her white horse nimbly dodging trees as they strayed from the well-worn path.

"What was that all about?" Robin asked, emerging from behind the tree. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful Marian looked in the dappled green light, her expression puzzled. Her deep blue eyes studied the cover, then Robin's face.

"I am not entirely sure," Marian replied, frowning. "She said to give you this." She handed the book to Robin. For a moment their fingers touched and a ripple of warmth coursed through both bodies. Robin gave Marian a boyish grin before opening the book.

"It's something to do with alchemy," Robin mused, his eyes tracing around the intricate pictures and darting from one foreign word to another. "Djaq should have a look at this."

* * *

"So Djaq, what does it say?" Robin asked as Djaq studied the mysterious notes. Her face instantly lit up.

"This is a book of alchemy. It contains many secrets, which we can use to our advantage! This is excellent!"

"How did Charlotte get her hands on that?" Much asked, looking up from his task of preparing dinner. Will shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm not sure…" Robin said, but then ran his fingers through his hair- a sign that he understood. "The fire, of course!"

"What fire?" John asked.

"I don't know how she did it, but Charlotte must have set the room on fire so that Lord Arthur would not find out that his book had been stolen."

"That was a bit risky," Will observed.

"Risky but wonderful!" Djaq cried. "We now have all the science we need to rob the Sheriff's stronghold!"

"What?" Much yelled, standing up suddenly. "No! I refuse to be a part of this!"

"Oh, yes!" Robin said, grinning from ear to ear. "But we're going to need cunning as well… I'll ask Marian to tell Allan that we need him back."

"Whoa!" Will interrupted. "Wait a moment. Why would we rob the Sheriff's stronghold? As much as I hate the Sheriff, I don't quite understand why we would want to rob the most heavily guarded room in the castle."

"Something fishy is going on," Robin began to explain, but Much interrupted.

"Something fishy is _always_ going on at the castle!"

"I know, Much," Robin said patiently, "but our informant, young master Matthew _(A.N. A young guard that I just randomly came up with)_, has told us that the Sheriff has something unusual in the stronghold. It may give us a bit more information about what he's up to."

"All right," Will agreed, nodding his head.

"Sounds good to me," Djaq said.

"Mmmmm," John grunted, also nodding his head.

"Master!" Much moaned.

* * *

The Sheriff circled an uneasy Charlotte, observing her every move. The Sheriff was mad… in fact, mad was an understatement. He was _furious._

"It was you," he spat, his pacing coming to a halt. "You filthy, deceitful leper! I should have known. It is always the woman."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Charlotte objected. The Sheriff leant in closer.

"Oh, I think you do."

"Oh, I think I don't," Charlotte replied, her tone annoyed.

"Then let me refresh your memory," the Sheriff hissed, seizing a fistful of Charlotte's hair. Charlotte winced. "The fire in the alchemy room?"

"I was in your room at the time, my lord Sheriff."

"You thought you were being so clever; what better alibi to have than the Sheriff himself?"

"I still don't get what you're on about."

"No, of course not. Let me warn you, Charlotte, you left out one major detail- where had you been before you came into my room?"

"Sleeping in my bed."

"You told me that you couldn't get to sleep," the Sheriff teased, his eyes lighting up. Vaizey loved to torment people- it was his favourite pastime. Charlotte glared at him.

"Okay, you got me. Congratulations, whatever."

"Oh?" the Sheriff asked. That wasn't part of his plan…

"Earlier on, Lord Arthur told me that because I am a girl, I wasn't able to understand his work. I wanted to prove him wrong, and when my experiment didn't turn out the right way, I left the alchemy room. I must have left the fire slightly alight. It was a total accident," Charlotte lied, praying that the Sheriff would buy it. Luckily for her, he did.

"Haven't you ever heard of male superiority?" the Sheriff asked, tugging on her hair. Suddenly a malevolent grin spread across his lips, making Charlotte nervous. "We must make an example of you," he said, frighteningly strange delight seeping into his voice.

The rabbit was caught in the trap.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"Can you do it?" Robin asked Allan, his brilliant green eyes expectant.

"That depends. Do you want clever, or _really_ clever?" was Allan's reply. Robin grinned and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Excellent."

* * *

"What's going on?" Marian asked Sir Guy of Gisborne as they stood in the external hallway, watching a small crowd drifting into the courtyard. The peasants seemed expectant, like something interesting was going to happen.

"You'll find out soon enough," Sir Guy replied, his voice indifferent, as usual.

"But where is Charlotte?" Marian asked, searching the crowd for someone wearing bright colours. This time Sir Guy gave a humourless laugh, which made Marian uneasy.

Suddenly there was a fanfare from the trumpeters and the Sheriff emerged, smirking even more so than usual. Charlotte was still nowhere in sight.

"Welcome, everyone," the Sheriff addressed the crowd. "Look at all those eager faces! Well, I promise that you won't be disappointed. Men have been and will always be superior to women. Today I will demonstrate what happens when women try and disprove that fact."

Suddenly Charlotte was brought out, her arms pinned behind her back by a guard. He forced her down the steps and onto the wooden platform. She did not resist; there was no point in doing so.

'_Ah, revenge is sweet,'_ the Sheriff thought. _'Oh, wait! Haven't we been here before?'_

Another guard brought forward some nasty looking shears. Charlotte held her head high, a slightly insane whisper of a smile on her lips. One guard lifted up her long, honey blonde hair, while the other began to roughly snip through the thick mass. Once finished, he held up the hair triumphantly.

Suddenly, every pair of eyes was on Charlotte. Marian's were sympathetic, the Sheriff's were gleeful and Sir Guy's were impassive. Having your hair cut off publicly was an immensely embarrassing thing for a woman. Even Marian had been unable to hold back tears. But Charlotte, being Charlotte, tossed her head.

"Wow, that feels lighter!" she exclaimed. The Sheriff was not amused.

"Look out, Sheriff coming through!" he called, pushing through a group of guards to get inside.

"Look out, the Fuzz coming through!" Charlotte called in true Charlotte style as she leapt down from the platform. Marian turned to face Sir Guy.

"You've got to admit, that girl is either immensely brave or immensely stupid, or both."

"I think it's both," Sir Guy replied.

"Me too," Much muttered to himself from behind them.

* * *

The Sheriff lounged in his chair, staring vacantly at the Council of Lords. Only Sir Edward was missing. Sure enough, he eventually arrived, excusing himself for his lateness. Once seated, he murmured something to a nearby Charlotte.

"You've had your hair cut," he observed.

"Yeah, best rates in town," Charlotte replied loudly enough for the Sheriff to hear. "Your pride for your hair."

The rest of the meeting continued as normal, with only one interruption from Marian.

"How can you possibly raise the taxes when people are already heavily indebted to you? It is unfair and unjust."

The Sheriff looked at Marian as if she were a piece of dirt.

"On behalf of Marian, I apologise for her outburst," Sir Edward cut in, giving Marian a meaningful glance.

"Oh, no need," the Sheriff replied. "Being men, I'm sure we're all aware of the fact that women say and do things before they think."

Both Charlotte and Marian blushed slightly, making the Sheriff give a wry smile.

* * *

"Have you learnt your lesson?" the Sheriff taunted as the rest of the Lords disappeared out the door. Charlotte hung back.

"Do you want to know what I was thinking the whole time that I was up there?" Charlotte asked, her tone strangely light.

"What? Some way to complain about your unfair treatment?"

"I was wondering whether planting my cut hair on your head and watering it would make it grow; you certainly need it." Charlotte smiled. This confused the Sheriff. In truth, Charlotte was smiling at Allan in his guard disguise, who was imitating the Sheriff behind his back. Vaizey would never know or understand why she had smiled at him so kindly that afternoon.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"You complete and utter fool," Marian scolded Charlotte that night as the two prepared for bed. "You could have gotten yourself killed, and worse, you've put Robin's plans in jeopardy!" Charlotte, who was braiding Marian's raven black hair (marvelling at how soft and beautifully shiny it was), sighed.

"I'm sorry," Charlotte insisted for the twelfth time, "but if it hadn't been for me, then Robin wouldn't have the book now."

"True," Marian replied, her brow furrowed. "But still… you are more trouble than you are worth."

"I know," Charlotte replied, grinning. "I can't help it."

Little John and Djaq sat inside the dark, gloomy tavern, waiting for Robin. Surely he couldn't be far…

A dark figure approached the two, his head hooded. Robin nodded once, which was the signal. Djaq stood up and John yawned in reply, both mentally running over their jobs. Adrenaline rushed through all three as they prepared themselves for their greatest robbery yet.

That night, Charlotte honestly couldn't get to sleep. She tossed and turned, constantly aware of the sleeping Marian in the bed beside her. Even in her sleep, Marian appeared ready for anything and slightly stressed, with her features firm.

Exasperated, Charlotte slipped out of bed. Maybe a night-time ride would calm her nerves. She dressed hastily and tied what was left of her hair into a messy ponytail with a white ribbon. Silently, like a creature of the night, Charlotte made her way down to the stables. The guards who had been posted outside there were fast asleep.

'_Typical,'_ Charlotte tutted in her head, then smiled at how much she sounded like the Sheriff.

Choosing a chestnut mare, Charlotte saddled the horse and made a quick getaway. She then proceeded to ride into the night, until the new sun was warm on her back, announcing a new day. She found herself on the outskirts of the forest, fairly close to where she supposed that Marian lived. Only then did she permit herself to cry.

Charlotte felt as if her heart had been ripped in two. She had endured heartbreak and hardship before, so she was confident in her strength, but everyone needs to cry. It is impossible to be in control all the time. Thinking about it, Charlotte realised that she had cried more often than she ever had before in the last week.

When Charlotte was only a girl, her mother died in childbirth. Her father died not long after, leaving her and the boys all alone. She had watched both parents die- an unnecessary agony. Her youngest sister, Estelle, had been taken in by a wealthy aunt. Apparently, Charlotte and the boys were too 'uncivilised' for her aunt. They had never seen Estelle again, but Charlotte knew that she was already married off. Estelle was now only twelve; the same age that Charlotte had been when she had been forced to become the parent. That was eleven years ago.

She, Ewan, Isaac and Caleb were orphaned, but inherited their father's house… and their father's debt. They lived off what they could beg for, find or steal. No-one cared for them, except for a kind nun who gave them bread and meat once a week. The nun died after only one year of helping Charlotte's family. Charlotte had been born a lady, and raised a peasant.

It was hard enough being the boys' sister as well as having the extra job of being the mother. Ewan was too full of dreams to earn a living as an artisan, Isaac wanted to become a knight and Caleb was by far too young to earn any money at all.

'_But we toughed it out,'_ Charlotte thought, proud of her brothers. Indeed, they had. Ewan was sent off to live in a monastery so that he could receive an education, and when he came of age, Isaac went off to be a page. He was a squire now. Young Caleb would head off to a monastery as soon as possible; only unlike Ewan, Caleb would be a monk one day. It was his dream.

Charlotte lay down on the dew-covered carpet of lush, green grass, closing her eyes and placing her hands behind her head.

Then Daniel had shown up, turning her world upside down. Ah, dear Daniel. The mere thought of his name sent shivers running down her spine and happy tingles straight to her toes. Daniel was her first- and only- love.

Charlotte remembered very clearly the day that he had proposed to her. It was summer; the joy of the peasants had been almost tangible in the air. Up to his usual antics, Daniel had climbed on to the thatched roof of his father's house. Charlotte had joined him.

"I love summer," he had told her, his hazel eyes bright. "Summer reminds me of you, my angel; bright and full of energy." They talked until night fell, then Daniel had kissed her hand softly.

"Charlotte, my summer angel, will you do a poor man a huge favour?"

"That depends what the favour may include," Charlotte replied, grinning. She remembered playing with a lock of his curly coal bronze-gold hair.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his husky voice entirely serious.

"Yes!" she had cried, perhaps too eagerly. Daniel laughed. His laugh was the most wonderful sound in her world then, and she would do anything to hear it now. Charlotte had loved Daniel obsessively, becoming distraught at the mere thought of being separated from him. Charlotte fingered the ring that she wore on a cord around her neck. She had not worn that ring since that fateful day…

"Your betrothed is dead," the messenger had said bluntly. "He died a hero's death, protecting the king. His body lies in Acre."

Daniel had been drawn in by the glory of war.

"I will make you proud," he had sworn, slipping the engagement ring on to her finger. "When I return, we will marry." What a naïve fool she had been, believing that he would return. Charlotte used to dream of him running up the pathway, his arms wide. He would fling them around her and hold her close, telling her how much he had missed her. Now whenever she dreamed of him, she saw his mutilated body lying in a pool of blood… Charlotte shook her head. That door had closed. Slammed, more like.

Then there was her most recent loss… but that was mourning for another day.

So here she was, drenched in morning dew and shivering with cold. The sun was now very high in the sky, but suffused with grey clouds. Another dead day. Running her fingers through her now messy, half-out ponytail, Charlotte tried to return to the present day. For a long time, she was unsuccessful.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Back in the castle, Allan and Will stood in disguise outside the Sheriff's stronghold on sentry duty. Both were on hyper-alert; the smallest squeak of a mouse sent their hearts racing.

A shadow stealthily approached them and both men drew their swords, prepared for an attack.

"Peace, my friends," Robin calmed them, holding up a hand. "Would you honestly attack your own leader?"

"No," Will replied, relieved and embarrassed at the same time.

"Robin," Allan sighed in relief. Another huge shadow approached, followed by a smaller one. John and Djaq were behind Robin.

"Where's Much?" Will asked, noticing the lack of a fourth shadow.

"Being invisible; he's on lookout," Robin explained. "Now, time for a donation," he announced, motioning for John to move forward. John did so, ramming himself into the heavy wooden door. He had to repeat this several times before the door finally budged, but only slightly.

"Uh, fellas?" Allan said, drawing their attention. "We could just use the key." He produced a large bronze key, handing it to Robin.

"You could have told me," John grumbled, shuffling out of the way. Robin put the key in the lock and turned, his tongue between his teeth in excitement. The door swung open, revealing a dark room.

Each man (and woman) snuck in, keeping to the walls. Robin took a torch from the wall outside and headed in first, making sure that there was no danger.

"Ready," he called, giving the all clear. The gang advanced forwards. In front of them was a huge iron door, securely locked and bolted. Djaq moved ahead, clutching a mysterious looking vial in her hands. After pouring some of the liquid inside on to her hand, Djaq rubbed it on the first lock. The liquid oozed into the lock, and suddenly there was a '_pop!_' as it came undone. The first liquid was a lubricant that worked so well that it undid locks because it was so slippery.

Now for the second lock. Djaq took out the vial that burned through metal and poured some onto the lock. There was a sinister hiss as the iron melted away.

Last, most certainly not least, was the third lock. This one was slightly more complex; luckily Djaq had a very simple solution. A liquid substance that rivalled Greek fire.

Djaq sprinkled some of the liquid on the lock. Robin handed her the torch and everyone instinctively took a large step back. Lowering the torch to the lock, Djaq grimaced. With a small but sure '_BOOM!_' the last lock exploded. Success was sweet for Djaq; her job was over. They then waited for Much, who came up behind them, giving Robin the thumbs up. No-one had heard.

Again Robin took the torch and pushed the door open, inspecting the room. Inside was more gold than he had imagined possible, and more signs of treachery and treason than he had seen in nightamares. So what was the Sheriff up to?

Much opened a large chest and pulled out something silk, rubbing it against his face.

"So soft!" he murmured. Allan also pulled out a garment, but he made a funny noise.

"I'm not being funny, but someone has a huge rear end," he observed, examining the crude medieval form of underpants with distaste. Much whimpered and dropped the undergarment back into the chest, muttering "Foul! Foul! Foul!" under his breath and rubbing his cheek with his dirty hat.

Robin marvelled at the dark suits of armour that were slumped against the walls, complete with chain mail, a sword and shield baring the Sheriff's falcon crest.

Djaq and Will began to scoop coins and jewellery into the prepared sacks, and when they were full, their pockets.

John surveyed the room with unease and disgust, impatient for the run to be over. Suddenly he heard guards talking outside the external door and tapped his staff on the floor twice, the signal for danger. Everyone except Robin leapt into the shadows. Robin was frozen, trying to figure out which item to take. Which item would convince the King that times were warped and desperate in England?

Footsteps echoed in the chamber-like room outside the stronghold. Perplexed, Robin snatched the first think he could lay his fingers on, and then leapt into the shadows next to a quivering Much. The torch that he had been holding was slowly dying as it lay discarded on the stone floor. This puzzled the two guards that entered the room, who quickly swept their eyes around the room, but found nothing. They were just about to walk out when Much accidentally dropped a silver dish that he had taken, making a huge clashing din as it hit the ground.

"Oops!" Much cried. The guards whirled around, only to face a fearsome Robin with his sword drawn. Allan and John flanked him while Djaq and Will stood behind, weighed down by their takings. Much faithfully joined his master's side once he had recovered. The next series of events happened very quickly.

One guard rushed headlong into John, who with a customary bellow toppled him over. He came back for more, though, and swiped at both Allan and John with his sword.

The other guard had slightly more brain. He used some fancy footwork to dodge blows aimed at him by Much, who wasn't having much luck. Suddenly Much cried out in pain; the guard had sliced off the tip of Much's ear, narrowly missing his head. That was when Robin seized his chance.

Thrusting the handle of his sword down heavily on the guard's head, Robin also kicked him in the crutch area. The man collapsed on the ground, howling in pain. Robin then used his superb sword skills to disarm the first guard, and then did the same as he had to the other one.

The others, who were amazed, recognised that this was no time to gape. The whole gang made a break for it, running as fast as they could in the direction of the kitchens, where a distressed Anne was waiting for them. Allan gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before ushering everyone into the waiting cart, which was filled with sacks of grain. He then whipped off his uniform, revealing his peasant disguise underneath. Will did the same, then they were off.

The portcullis was raised, much to the gang's relief. There was too much pandemonium for anyone to take any notice of a lowly cart making its way out of the castle walls. Some other guards had been alerted to the situation and were scurrying all over the place like angered ants, trying to get everything under control.

Once safely far away from Nottingham, the whole gang sighed in relief. They then proceeded to celebrate.

"Well done, my friends!" Allan cried, clapping each person on the back.

"A job well done," Robin echoed, grinning like a madman. "The Sheriff will be pleased to know that his donations will be used wisely."

"_Dis_pleased," Much corrected, not getting the joke.

"Much!" everyone else groaned. Suddenly Robin remembered the item that he had taken. Pulling it out of his pocket, Robin examined the strange piece. It was the Sheriff's falcon insignia on a silver ring. On the inside, it read in Latin:

'Long Live King John'

Robin beamed from ear to ear, barely able to suppress an insane laugh.

"Perfect!"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

When Charlotte had risen from her bed, Marian had expected her to be searching for a chamber pot. One hour later, when Charlotte still hadn't returned, Marian sighed.

"That girl is going to be the death of me, I swear."

Marian had ridden around the countryside for hours since after breakfast, but to no avail. Charlotte was simply nowhere to be seen. Thinking of giving up, she headed towards her home, Knighton Hall.

A funny shaped lump blocked the path ahead of her, making Marian curious. She approached cautiously, wary in case it was something dangerous. Realising what it was, Marian dismounted and sighed in annoyance, nudging the figure with her foot.

"Ungh!" Charlotte groaned, rolling on to her back. "Gerroff!"

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"Lying down," Charlotte replied crossly. "What does it look like?"

"What if a guard had come thundering down this path on his horse and hadn't realised that you were there until it was too late?" Marian chided.

"Then I'd be pretty flat," Charlotte chuckled, propping herself up into a sitting position.

"Grow up," Marian said, her glare scathing. Charlotte leapt to her feet and put her hands on her hips.

"Amazing!" Charlotte cried. Marian rolled her eyes.

"We had best get back to the castle. Where did you leave your horse?"

"Bother," Charlotte muttered under her breath, remembering that the horse had been left free to wander.

It least three hours later, after Charlotte had finally located her horse, the two women were astride their mounts and heading into Nottingham. Like deja-vu, Sir Guy was waiting for them in the courtyard. This time, though, his expression was grim.

"Guy?" Marian asked, dismounting. "What's wrong?"

"We've been robbed," Sir Guy spat, his fists clenched. "Hood must have done it. He escaped before the thick guards realised what was going on. If I had been there, I would have finished him off," Guy assured himself, turning away from Marian.

"That's terrible," Marian replied, her voice sympathetic but her expression amused.

"Yeah," Charlotte agreed, stifling a laugh. Sir Guy turned to face them again.

"I _will _catch Hood," he swore, stroking Marian's cheek with a gloved hand. There was a silence, broken by Guy. "The Sheriff is furious… Charlotte, would you be able to placate him?"

"I'm not sure," Charlotte replied truthfully. "He's not very fond of me at the moment."

"Make an effort," Gisborne ordered. Marian shot Charlotte a sympathetic glance.

"Yes, my lord," Charlotte agreed reluctantly.

The Sheriff paced around his office, occasionally kicking or whacking any random object. He was even more furious than when he had figured out that Charlotte had set the alchemy room alight.

Years of bringing up boys told Charlotte to be patient. The Sheriff would open up when he wanted to. That is, _if _he wanted to. Charlotte supposed that he might be a while. To keep herself occupied, Charlotte began to draw.

"Blasted Hood!" the Sheriff yelled, pushing over a chair. "My savings gone! My plans ruined! Am I happy? A clue?"

"No?" Charlotte murmured to herself.

"No!" the Sheriff echoed. "What am I going to do now?" He continued to pace the room. Charlotte returned to her drawing, which was of a servant girl outside the window, completely unaware that she was being watched.

"Ah-ha!" the Sheriff cried out suddenly, making Charlotte jump. "We could raid the outlaws' camp and steal back… no. No, no, no!" He stamped his foot impatiently. "Far too obvious! Hood would see it coming from a mile away."

"Vaizey," Charlotte said gently, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"What?" the Sheriff snarled back, but he seemed out of breath.

"I have every faith in you; you'll think of something," Charlotte assured him. "You always do. You are by far the most evil, scheming person I have ever met."

"Oh?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Charlotte laughed, standing up. A twisted smile crept on to the Sheriff's reluctant lips. For some reason, Charlotte's confidence in him made him feel better than if anyone else had said the same thing. It made his tiny heart swell with pride. The Sheriff's heart had suffered from atrophy, becoming such an insignificant part of his body that it was rarely used. His conscience had also wasted away from lack of use, but when Charlotte turned up, it was like new blood coursed through his veins. Every day was a pleasant surprise, and he had become used to her sunny face and outlook on life.

But there was still one possibility that he refused to admit, no matter how lucid the answer appeared.

Never.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

It was twilight. The Sheriff and Charlotte were deep in conversation in his bedroom, the Sheriff relaxing in his chair and Charlotte sitting on an uncomfortable wooden stool opposite him. The remains of dinner lay discarded on a tray on a small table, both of them too profoundly lost in the discussion to call for a servant to take it away.

One solitary tear ran down Charlotte's cheek. For some reason which the Sheriff could not comprehend, that one tear meant more to Vaizey than if Charlotte had burst into tears.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, making Charlotte look up at him in surprise. "What's wrong?" Charlotte wiped the tear from her cheek with her sleeve.

"I'm fine," she mumbled in reply. When he looked at her unbelievingly, she repeated, "I'm fine, really!"

"Is having a conscience supposed to hurt so much?" the Sheriff groaned, rising from his chair and walking over to Charlotte, who nodded and gave a small smile.

"Yeah, you had better get used to it," she replied knowingly.

"Damn." The Sheriff fingered the split ends of Charlotte's practically massacred hair, guilt heavy in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured, stroking her jaw line. "I was a fool."

"Are you kidding me?" Charlotte replied, astonishing the Sheriff. "I'm the freak who set a room on fire." Vaizey chuckled humourlessly.

"I was so proud of you when you didn't cry, but so angry. I wanted so much to humiliate you, to cause you pain. Now I realise that I was wrong." Vaizey buried his face in her hair, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Oh, I'm not upset about that!" Charlotte laughed, the sound more like a bark. "Not much, anyway."

"Then what are you upset about?" Vaizey asked, pulling away to look at her. Charlotte took a deep breath, her whole body shaking. This concerned Vaizey.

"Ewan is dead."

Her words rang in his ears, loud and painful. Vaizey was again furious, but felt compassion for Charlotte, who was suffering deeply. He was a changed man.

"How do you know?" Vaizey asked, taking Charlotte's hand. The warmth of his kind gesture made Charlotte shiver again, but in a nice way.

"Remember when I borrowed your horse?" she asked, and he nodded. "I felt that something was wrong. He…" her words faltered as her courage gave out. Vaizey gripped her hand tighter. "He died in my arms."

Vaizey held her in a tight embrace for quite some time, murmuring words of comfort in her ear. Charlotte's breath was ragged from her effort not to cry, and her heart felt numb. Only the Sheriff's gentle voice held the tears back. The tension in the air was almost tangible, like a delicate spider web laced over the room. Charlotte felt anger, loss and grief overwhelming her, but relief and love fought back. The Sheriff felt like a war was raging in his head; fury at Ewan's unsuitable (for his plan) death, anger at Ewan for leaving Charlotte alone, confusion at his newfound feelings- fiery love and overwhelming desire.

Vaizey looked down at the seemingly frail woman he held, both passionately angry with her for messing up his life, and passionately and irrevocably in love with her. He felt as if he could drive a sword through her heart at any moment, but hated himself for even considering doing such a terrible thing. Vaizey also felt possessive; Charlotte was _his._ Fighting off internal conflict, he lifted her chin gently with one finger.

Charlotte's heart began to race, beating like a drum within her ribcage, as if it was trying to escape. The Sheriff's eyes, she noted, were a mixture of brown and swirls of green. They were vibrant with longing, boring into her own. Vaizey's eyes were screaming _'Mine!'_, which excited and terrified Charlotte at the same time.

Suddenly Vaizey was kissing her, gently at first. The next series of events was like a whirlwind, too fast for either person to grasp what was happening.

"I love you," Charlotte murmured in his ear. "So much." The Sheriff's heart swelled with emotions he could not understand. Yet, no matter how hard Vaizey tried, he could not admit his feelings to her. It was against his nature.

But he had to say it.

"I love you," he replied, his voice a hoarse whisper. That was it! He had revealed his weakness. Years of defying all emotions other than greed and self-love had made the Sheriff bitter, forcing him to believe that love was weak. Until now. It was like he could finally breathe, no longer stifled by his own restrictions.

Charlotte stared at him in disbelief, then was totally and utterly enraptured.

**. . .**

Charlotte did not return to her room that night. Marian waited for her until midnight, but she never came. Exasperated, Marian tried to sleep. She drifted off for a while, but her dreams became nightmares and she awoke in a pool of cold sweat.

Morning came with the twittering of birds and the sounds of human activity. Still Charlotte did not return. On her bed, Marian noticed a sack filled with mysterious shaped objects. Curious, she undid the string around it and opened it up.

Inside was a note that read "For the gang".

It was late morning by the time that Marian could escape the castle and Sir Guy's amorous gaze. She thundered into the forest on her bay mare, emotions swirling around her head. Charlotte was so confusing.

"Whoa!" Robin halted the mare, jumping out in front of them. Marian and the horse were taken by surprise, making the mare shy away from Robin. Marian had to grip tightly with her legs or else fall off her horse. Eventually the mare calmed down, much to both Robin and Marian's relief. "What's wrong?" Robin asked, which momentarily confused Marian. She had not realised that tears were rolling down her cheeks. Hastily she wiped them away.

"Charlotte has disappeared," she told him. Robin grinned.

"She'll be back before you know it," he assured her. Sighing, Marian produced the sack of Charlotte's belongings.

"She left these." Marian said, dismounting and handing the sack to Robin.

"Ah." The grin was wiped from Robin's face.

To Much, Charlotte had left a silver soupspoon. He was rapt when Robin handed it to him, and was immediately eager to make dinner. To John, Charlotte left a small dagger. The big man received his gift wordlessly, but the delight was obvious in his face. To Allan, she left a foreign gold coin on a chain. Allan also received his gift wordlessly, but that was because he was miserable and felt rejected. To Djaq, Charlotte left one of Arthur's instruments which she had salvaged, with a note saying, "From our dear friend Arthur." To Will, Charlotte left her most prized possession of all: her engagement ring from Daniel.

"You may be needing this in the near future," Robin read aloud to Will, who was illiterate. Will smiled warmly.

'_Hopefully I will,'_ he thought.

To Marian, Charlotte left one of the shells from her anklet. It was pure white and totally circular shaped, as well as smooth. Marian threaded a cord through the hole that Charlotte had made for that purpose, and wore the necklace every day.

Charlotte's sweet honey scent still lingered, even after many years. A small smile graced Marian's lips every time she stroked the shell. Charlotte may have been long gone, but her cherished friendship lived on in Marian's heart.

To Robin, Charlotte left a ring with a golden owl on it- her insignia. Like Marian, he smiled every time he looked at it. Her time with them had been so short, but so precious.

"She was a strange one, wasn't she?" Much said as he served dinner with his new most prized possession. Robin chuckled.

"Fair Lady Charlotte."

To Vaizey, Sheriff of Nottingham, Charlotte left her heart. As the Sheriff gazed out the window at the setting sun, he fingered the ring that Charlotte had slipped on to his finger. Last night that gesture had been meaningless. Now he understood.

The little golden owl perched on his ring finger, studying him with its gleaming black eyes. Little did he know that it was the sister of the ones that Robin had been given and the one that Charlotte wore on her own finger. "I love you," she had said.

"I love you too," the Sheriff murmured, picturing her shining face, her honey blonde hair and her wide, innocent eyes.

Suddenly he shook his head. Honestly, what would he do with a wife? They were only good for complaining and making more hungry mouths to feed. A small smile spread over his lips. Vaizey wondered what life would have been like with the eccentric, chaotic Charlotte. Then he shook his head again.

Hope- ugh. The Sheriff would sooner die than spend his whole life hoping.

As the dying sun bled crimson streaks across the afternoon sky, Charlotte trudged through the forest. The trees reminded her of soldiers standing at attention, each tall and proud. Charlotte was thinking of her friends, and her _second _love. She did not stop walking, however. Charlotte had to make it to the next village, where she had already asked to work as a maid in the manor house. She had to make it there before nightfall, or else risk being caught by outlaws. That last word brought a smile.


End file.
